


The Rivers of Winterfell

by incandescent (lmeden)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 08:25:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lmeden/pseuds/incandescent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summers in Winterfell are deceptively warm. </p>
<p>Also: beginning, wolf, smallclothes, winter, tree, gods, celebration, summer, conquest, hair, honor, press</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rivers of Winterfell

“Ah,” Cat sighs, lifting her hair off the back of her neck. It does feel good to be back in the privacy of their rooms. Here, she doesn’t need to worry about propriety; she can slip the outer layers of her dress from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, lift her hair up and pin it on top of her head so that she looks like a heathen. 

Sometimes – especially in the summer – the stones of Winterfell are far too hot for Cat. It’s one of the few times that she dislikes being Lady Stark. 

She settles herself onto the silk sheets that she had brought up from Kings Landing especially for the summer and stretches out her arms. With only a shift on, the sweat quickly begins to cool on her skin, and her eyes fall closed. She slips into half-dreams, imagining the cool shade of the godswood and how it would feel to dip her toes into the pool there (though, of course, she’d never dare).

The hinges of the door creak and, heart pounding, Cat sits up. Ned walks in and raises his brow when he sees her. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth and he shuts the door behind him. 

“I see you’ve decided to go to sleep early,” he says. “Skipping dinner?”

She scowls. “Of course not. It’s hot. The water running through these walls makes the summer unbearable inside.”

“So go outside,” Ned says, smiling. He reaches up to unclasp his cloak. 

“It’s hot outside as well,” she says. “And I don’t know how you stand those clothes.”

He lets the cloak fall and pool on the floor, next to her dress. “Practice.” He moves forward, unlacing his jerkin to reveal a sweat-stained shirt. He pushes the leather off his shoulders and bends down close. “Aren’t you the one who grew up in the South?”

Cat sends him a superior look. “I don’t know if your mapmakers have been selling you lies, my great Lord Stark, but Riverrun is hardly in the South.” She pulls back as he ducks down to kiss her. “Besides, we had a river. There is absolutely _nowhere_ to swim around here.”

Ned laughs and reaches out, pressing her down onto the cool sheets. “Then I’ll have to find you one.” He kisses her, a quick press of the lips. “Which river would you like? Would you like the Mander, or the Red Rush; the Greenblood, or the Cockleswent?”

She laughs, throwing her head back and giving him access to her throat. Her fingers work their way under his shirt and she traces the lines of his muscles, his scars. 

“Too common,” she says. 

“Of course,” he sighs, and when he looks up, there is no mischief in his eyes. Only a deep and honest love that still makes her shudder sometimes, wake in the night and clutch him to her, because this was never meant to be. “I shall find you the source of the Milkwater, then. The purest waters North of the Wall shall be yours for the drinking, or bathing. Or even swimming.”

She smiles, and draws him up, fingers gentle under his chin. “That sounds perfect.”

Cat kisses Ned, opening her mouth and drawing him in. His grip on her arms tightens and he presses her down deep into the bedding. She twists and shrugs her arms, and he relents, letting her go so that she can reach up for the laces of his shirt and work them free. She feels herself already growing moist and opens her legs, working her toes into the silken sheets. 

Ned reaches down and grasps the fabric of her shift, pulling it up until it clears her knees. Cat lifts her hips and lets him lift it higher, until it pools over her belly and he breaks the kiss, pulling back and taking in a deep breath. He tugs the last of her dress up and Cat sits, allowing him to slip it over her head. She shivers slightly and lets herself fall. She reaches up and places a hand on his trousers, over the burgeoning heat of his cock and presses against it, rubbing. 

His breath catches. Cat grasps the laces of his trousers and begins to work them free. Ned nudges his knees between Cat’s legs and shifts his hips forward, into her touch. His hair falls, loose, into his eyes. 

Cat finally loosens Ned’s trousers enough to push them down over his hips, and takes his cock in a firm grip. Her own arousal is tightening within her and she wants him. She strokes him a few times, letting him harden fully, before spreading her legs wide. 

“Now,” she says, and Ned reaches down to touch her cunt. 

He pushes two fingers into Cat, testing, and she hums with pleasure. Ned guides the head of his cock to her and presses in slowly. As usual, her breath catches as she feels the width of him inside, and then she exhales with a shuddering sigh. His hips hitch sharply. Cat wraps her legs around him as best as she can and draws him down. 

Ned kisses her, then pulls away, pressing his face into her hair. He rocks into her, the movement making Cat clench inside. She pulls him down and close, the heat of him against her exhilarating. Her heart pounds straight through her, and her clit throbs. 

She gasps at the feeling, as Ned presses her tighter and tighter against the sheets. 

His rhythm begins to falter, grow erratic, and Cat rides it as best she can. Her own body tenses and her breaths shorten, and pleasure soaks her through. Her climax comes suddenly, sweeping over her and sending shocks through her. Cat gasps and falls back, limp, to the sheets. 

Ned draws her back to him and with another few thrusts comes as well, shuddering and pouring himself into her. Cat kisses him as he pulls back, and he lowers himself to the side. 

She sighs and forces herself to sit up, legs crossed in front of her. She aches, but in the best way. 

“We don’t need any more children,” she says, turning to look at Ned. “You already have an heir and two daughters. And you want _more_?”

He grins up at her weakly. “Always.”

She slips her hand under his shirt and leans down. “I spoil you, don’t I?”

His eyes crinkle at the corners and he reaches up to knot his fingers into her hair. He pulls her close. “Always,” he whispers across her lips, and kisses her.


End file.
